Partings

What an interesting week here at camp. The camp was on the morning news (promotional, not breaking news). That involved us being up at the unholy hour of 4:45 am to get on TV. Ugh. Then my dishwasher broke! I can’t wash the dishes because of my soap allergy! BAH! I can’t wait for it to be fixed.

Enough complaining. To the story!
********
Gregory couldn’t really put together the events of the day straight. Not until General Weeks put up the white flag of surrender. It seemed the entire pass breathed a sigh of relief, on both sides. It may have been a short battle by war standards, but it still felt long to him. Everywhere he looked, he knew others felt the same way. There was wounded, tired, and dead scattered along the pass. He cringed as he rode with the council and Ghosts to the rendezvous point to discuss with the general about their surrender. Most of the battlefield was obscured in the trees, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see the devastation.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Martin whispered, noticing him flinch again.

“How do you deal with this?” Gregory asked, glancing away from a body in an Aeternan uniform. “Loosing so many men but technically winning the battle?”

“I’m still working on that,” the captain admitted, his expression somber. “This still hurts me.”

The rendezvous point was in a clearing just past the top of the pass. General Weeks and his officers had dismounted their horses and were waiting for them. They also dismounted and finished walking towards them. They stopped within an arms length of the enemy. Each side eyed the other, mistrust but also tired. No plays were going to be made this day.

“I am General William Weeks,” said a man with a bald head and missing ear. “I have come to surrender.”

“I am Ghost Captain Martin Stevens,” Martin said. “I accept your surrender.”

Weeks raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking the Ghost at full length. “So,” he muttered, his face expressionless. “You’re Martin Stevens.” Why did the general emphasize the captain’s last name?

Martin narrowed his eyes. “So you’ve heard of me.” It wasn’t a question.

“The orders from General Terk were very specific,” Weeks answered dully. “You have practically every Venter army after you.” Gregory blinked and turned toward the captain, surprised. He wasn’t the only council member to suddenly look at Ghost with looks of confusion.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Martin said, shrugging. “He has been after me for a long time.”

“True,” Weeks agreed. He paused. “And I see you’ve been promoted to captain this winter. I would say that was a political move, but after today’s battle, I know you’ve earned that promotion.” He bowed slightly. “My complements, Stevens. You fought a brave battle and won.”

“The promotion was political,” Martin said in an equally dull tone. “But I appreciate that you see that I also deserved it.”

Gregory scratched his head, suddenly very confused. The captain’s promotion was political? How was an army promotion political?

“Shall we discuss the terms of our retreat?” Weeks suggested.

The next hour was spent haggling over the terms of retreat. Gregory couldn’t follow it very well, but Martin seemed to know what he was doing. The Ghost captain and general argued in dull, uninterested tones. It was a bit unnerving to see neither man loose their tempers. Or even triumph when they won a point.

In the end, they agreed in a cease fighting for the night while they gathered their wounded. Martin was even generous enough to say that they had until the day after to finally move out, though Weeks said he wanted away from the deathtrap of the pass as soon as possible.

“It’s done then,” Weeks said, shaking hands with the captain to seal their deal. “I am defeated. Congratulations, Stevens. Not many men can claim that.”

“I just have good men and luck on my side,” Martin replied.

“No,” Weeks said, shaking his head. “It’s more than that. You’re a dangerous man, Martin of Aeterna.” He turned to go then paused and turned back. “I will be making a report of this battle to General Terk. Would you like to send him a message?”

“Send Terk a message?” Gregory muttered, eyeing the captain. What did the Mad General have to do with a freshly made Ghost captain?

Martin stood silent for a moment, not breaking eye contract with the general. Weeks stared back, refusing to back down. However, even he couldn’t withstand the captain’s intense stare. He started shaking and finally turned away. For the first time since the meeting began, the general showed some emotion on his face. Worry.

The Ghost captain snorted. Apparently he knew he was going to win the staring contest. “Tell him,” he said, his tone hard, “that he messed with the wrong Aeternan.”

Weeks actually shivered. “He did,” he whispered. “Didn’t he? Farewell, Martin Stevens. I hope we never meet again on the battlefield.” He signaled his men to leave, him leading the way with his head bowed.
***********
Part of the agreement with Weeks was that their army was to stay in the valley for at least a week before leaving, giving Weeks and his army time to get away. Martin didn’t mind that part of the agreement at first. It gave time for his men to recover and for he and his Ghosts to plan their next move. But by the end of the week, he wished that he hadn’t been so quick to agree. Instead of a quiet recovery and planning, Count McGregger insisted that they throw a party to celebrate their victory. Perhaps everyone else enjoyed themselves with the party, he found that he needed some privacy, especially after it seemed that all the girls in the valley tried to thank him for his actions. That alone had him running to find a safe place to be alone.

The only place he could find, however, was if he went out running with Rowan. Pout though the ladies might, he insisted that his rides were for clearing his head and recovering after the battle. It took a command from the count for the girls to stop their persistence. For that, Martin was grateful. He needed time alone.

He wasn’t the only one.

Dixon was soon after him to find solitude, followed then by Art, Irvin, and even Clary. They all needed to get away from the hero worship. By the end of the week, it was fairly hard to catch any of them.

There was one good thing that came from their need to leave, they agreed quickly about where they should go next.

“General Weeks is headed northeast,” Irvin said, pointing at a large map back in the count’s mansion. “I think he’s going back to Venter. It would be unwise to go after him.”

“Unwise and unnecessary,” Art added. “I got the impression that he was tired of the war.”

“Everyone is,” Martin pointed out. “He just has an excuse to back out. We did defeat him pretty soundly.”

“Then I think we should head south,” Dixon concluded, pointing at a large plain south of their position. “It’ll be easier on our troops to walk on flat ground and we did get a report saying that General Zien is marching in that area.”

“Zien will be hard to pin down though,” Clary said, leaning back in his chair. The bald man was the only one sitting. He propped his feet up on the table, the heel of his boot covering the northwestern part of the map. “We’ll need a plan of attack long before we get there.”

“As long as we’re trapped in this room for planning,” Dixon said, glaring briefly at the door and the hero worshipers outside it waiting for them. “I think we have plenty of time to come up with something.”

McGregger wasn’t happy to hear the news.

“But…” he stuttered, his eyes wide, “don’t you want more time to recover?”

“It’s best that we keep on the move,” Irvin said.

“Yeah,” Art snorted. “We don’t want Terk to pin our Marty down.”

That finally got the count to stop bugging them.

The day of their departure was kept quiet, something they all agreed on. If their departure were known, McGregger would have insisted on another party that would have lasted another week. Martin could tell that his men were eager to go, even if they did enjoy Jewel Valley. But they were soldiers and the war was elsewhere. It was time to go.

It came as a shock to everyone when Martin finally announced that they were leaving. And there was little time for anyone to say otherwise. The army was moving out by midday and would be over the pass by nightfall. By the end of the day, Jewel Valley would return to their normal lives.

Martin was the first one to the stables after he made the announcement, his things already packed. The other Ghosts had a few goodbyes to make and finish packing. The prince felt that no one wanted to see him off. Except maybe Count McGregger, but he didn’t feel much like dealing with the count. He was sick of the hero worship.

Finding the stables empty of humans, Martin decided that he had a few minutes to pamper his Rowan. The elven horse had earned it. He found some oats, Rowan’s favorite food, and a brush. Letting Rowan at the oats, he began to brush the horse down, taking his time to pick out twigs from his mane and tail.

“What do you think?” he asked the horse, brushing his back. “We’re leaving.” He sighed softly. “We’re leaving.”

His sixth sense tingled.

Someone was coming.
**********
Sona knew there was only one place Martin could go after making such an announcement after breakfast. He would have already been packed and ready to leave. That man could have everything he cared to have packed in five minutes and leave in ten. He wasn’t one to linger long once he decided to leave. Just like the last time he left without saying goodbye to her.

However this time, he was slowed down by an army. She was going to have a word with him before he left. He couldn’t get out of it this time.

Arriving at the stables, she saw him in Rowan’s stall, brushing the horse. He must have been at it a while because the elven horse looked ready for a parade, not for marching out. Taking a deep breath, she marched up to the stall, steeling herself for this farewell.

“Aren’t you even going to say goodbye?” she asked harshly, glaring at him. It was so much easier being mad at him when he wasn’t in danger and about to do something stupid.

Martin sighed, still brushing his horse. “I’m not good at goodbyes,” he admitted, not even looking at her. “No one ever cared that I was leaving. I’ve always just… left.”

Sona flinched. That was a truth. Until recently, the orphan spy had no one to send him off. He had to always leave alone and come back to no one. But that had changed. Oh, how that had changed.

“I’ll tell you right now,” she said bitterly, “no one likes a farewell letter. You didn’t even have the courage to tell us that you were leaving last time.”

“You would have stopped me,” Martin pointed out. He finally put the brush aside and walked to the stall door. He leaned on the door, his expression serious. “Would any of you, after knowing who I was and what I could do, just let me leave? Join the Ghosts and fight in this war?”

“Probably not,” she said, grimacing. “But we still deserved a better explanation. All you left us was a pathetic note saying ‘I’m sorry.’ That doesn’t cut it, Martin. It should be something more formal.”

Martin half smiled. “Formal how?”

Sona blinked. “You know how! A speech, a handshake, a hug, even spitting in someone’s face! Something to either bring closure or…” She floundered for what she wanted to say. “Or even to say that you’ll be back.” She sighed, also leaning against the stall door. “You didn’t give any of us that. We didn’t know if you were planning on coming back or running away for good.”

“I’m linked to Aeterna,” he pointed out. “I’m bound to serve Aeterna. Everyone knew I would be back.”

“Yes,” she grudgingly agreed. “But we didn’t know when. Or how. Or if. Face it, Martin. Joining the Ghosts and having General Terk after you… There’s a good possibility that you wouldn’t be coming back.”

“But you don’t believe that.”

Sona turned slightly to see the prince, thinking to judge his seriousness. But he looked at her with a bemused expression. She felt herself blushing. “You’ve been teasing me!”

He shook his head. “Not teasing,” he said softly, reaching out and lightly touching her face. “I just want to spend a few more minutes with you.” He leaned in close to her, his hand sliding up through her hair and cradling her head. Afraid to even breath, she let him kiss her, feeling herself melt at the touch of his lips. It had been months since they last kissed, but those months vanished in an instant. She kissed him back, forgetting everything that had happened in the last week, replacing all those memories with the man she loved.

He reluctantly pulled out of the kiss. Sona gasped a bit. She had nearly forgotten how wonderful his kisses were, having taught him how she liked to be kissed. He chuckled, resting his forehead against hers.

“This isn’t a closure goodbye,” he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. “We’ll see each other again.”

She sighed, closing her eyes against the tears. “But can we be together?”

He too sighed, cupping her face with a hand. “I don’t know.” He then kissed her again, gently and softly. When he pulled back again, he gave her a smile she knew was meant for just her. “But I do want you to know that I love you. Nothing changes that. Not my name, not what others might think, not even if you decide to hate me for the rest of our lives. I love you, Sona Merette. You and no one else.”

Sona was lost in those hazel eyes. He meant it. “I love you, Martin Santer,” she whispered. “And I don’t think that changes either.”

Martin’s smile widen a bit, relief in his eyes. He was actually worried that she didn’t love him! He kissed her again, with that sweetness she loved. She kissed him back, wishing so much that he could be hers.
************
Gregory and the rest of Ashton filled the streets of their town to watch as the army finally disappeared over the pass. There was a collective sigh of relief and also sadness. In the two weeks the Ghosts and their army were with them had caused both great excitement and sadness. Returning to the monotony of farming and mining seemed anticlimactic to the last two weeks.

But there was nothing they could do to keep the army and their Ghosts in the valley. They had a duty to preform and others to protect. The war was gone from the valley and they had to root it out elsewhere.

Sighing, he and the other townspeople wandered back to their homes. He dragged his feet back to his farm, finding himself thinking of the planting that needed to be done. He had forgotten in all the excitement. But now the boring life of a farmer was his again.

“Grandpa!”

Looking up, he grinned as his two oldest grandchildren ran up to him. He knelt down and grabbed them in a hug, lifting them off the ground. He held them tight. Did these children know their lives were just spared? Their homes protected? That they were safe?

The army’s farewell suddenly seemed pathetic. They deserved more.

“Grandpa!” Nate said, smiling wide. “Grandma said that we’re going to have a party tonight! We’re inviting all the neighbors and we’re going to dance the night away!”

Gregory chuckled, putting his grandchildren down. “I think that’s past your bedtime,” he teased, flicking Nate’s nose.

“Mom said that we can stay up as long as we can,” Jane laughed.

Gregory didn’t envy his son and his wife in the next few days. Their kids were going to be a handful.

“A party?”

Standing up, Gregory turned around and found Larry McGregger dismounting from his horse. The farmer glared at the noble.

“What do you want here?” he asked, a bit harsher than he should have. But that didn’t matter. They both knew the noble wasn’t welcome in their home.

“I just want to talk to Sona,” Larry said, whipping his hair back. “That’s all.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Gregory admitted. He hadn’t seen her daughter since they returned to town.

“What do you want, Larry?”

Turning, Gregory saw his daughter behind him, her arms folded defensively. If he had been uncivil towards the noble, her look alone spoke murder.

Larry grinned and bowed to her. “I was just wondering if you would care to join me for dinner tonight. Now that the competition is gone, I figure I have a good chance at winning your hand again.”

Sona’s expression darkened. “Competition?”

The noble laughed, vaguely gesturing to the pass. “Oh, come now. Don’t you think none of us noticed? That Ghost captain. You had a crush on him, didn’t you?” Not surprisingly, Sona blushed. It was only after the battle that everyone finally put together that Sona didn’t hate the captain, but actually cared for him. They didn’t know what the captain thought of her though. He disappeared a lot the week after the battle.

“Forget that captain,” Larry said, smiling in what he must have thought in a charming manner, though it only came off as smug. “I can offer you a life of luxury. Think of it! You could be a noblewoman, never again to work a day in your life. What could that captain offer you? A soldier of war. You’d work out a living on some farm, with his brats, wondering if you’ll ever see him again. And you know that soldiers aren’t the most faithful of husbands…”

“And you would be faithful?” she snapped. She marched up to the noble, pounding on his chest with a finger. “You have no idea what you’re saying. Martin couldn’t offer me a life of luxury? He could offer me the world! Anything I desire he could give me!” There were tears in her eyes.

“But the one thing I want,” she said, her voice quaking. “He can’t give me. You aren’t competition, Larry. You’re just a pathetic bug compared to him.” She suddenly turned and ran toward the house, crying.

“Sona?” Gregory asked, concerned.

Larry blinked. “I guess,” he muttered, “that I’ll talk with her later. When she isn’t feeling so crushed.” Sighing dramatically, he mounted his horse and rode off.

Gregory hardly noticed. He ran after his daughter into the house. His family stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up towards Sona’s room.

“What just happened?” Irene asked, frowning at him. “Sona came running in here crying and went to her room.”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, going up the stairs. “But I’m going to find out.” He quietly approached his daughter’s room, knocking softly on the door. “Sona?” he asked, hearing her crying inside. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t answer.

Slowly opening the door, he saw his only daughter laying facedown on her bed, crying into her pillow. He sighed and walked over. “Sona?” he asked, sitting down and rubbing her back. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and said nothing.

“Is it the captain?” he asked. She sobbed harder. He sighed. So that was it. “Sona,” he chuckled, “if you love him this much, you should just go after him. You don’t need to stay here.”

“I shouldn’t go after him,” she sobbed.

“My girl,” he said sternly, “if you love him, we won’t stop you from going after him. We all approve of him. Your brothers, your mother.” He laughed shortly. “Even I like him.”

“Stop making it worse!” she yelled, sitting up. Her eyes were red with tears and her face puffy.

“Worse?” Gregory asked, confused. “How can our approval make this worse? He cares for you. I know it, I’ve seen how he cares for you. Two lovers shouldn’t be separated.”

She laughed bitterly. “Separated? There was no chance we could be together in the first place.”

“And how’s that?” he asked, a bit annoyed. Although he loved his daughter, she was stubborn at times. “I wouldn’t mind a Stevens in the family.”

“His name isn’t Stevens,” she snapped. “It’s a name he picked out to protect his identity.”

Gregory blinked. “What do you mean?” he asked. “He lied about his name? Who is he then?”

“He’s a Santer!” she wailed. She buried her face in her hands, her tears flowing fast now. “I fell in love with the crown prince, dad!” Without warning, she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing on his shoulder. “We fell in love,” she sobbed softly. “And we can’t be together!”

Gregory froze, the world had stopped spinning at her confession. Everything about the captain suddenly clicked into place. He was from Nacre, he had one sister, his father killed at Fort Bree, his political promotion, why the enemy had orders to capture him…

“Because I need to help the people.”

Martin was the crown prince of Aeterna.

“Oh Sona,” he whispered, hugging his only daughter tight, finally understanding. He felt tears of his own come to his eyes, sharing Sona’s sorrow. “I’m so sorry.” She had been right. Their approval made it worse. How could a farmer’s daughter ever marry someone as noble as a prince?

“I’m so sorry.”
********
Martin stopped. Twisting in his saddle, he looked back at the pass.

“Captain?” Bentley asked, halting his horse next to his. “What is it?”

Martin stared at the pass. He was feeling a strong emotion. Unspeakable sorrow.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. He wondered what was causing such sorrow. It couldn’t be anything endangering the people. There was no terror. Just sorrow.

“Well,” Art said, riding past them, “we shouldn’t worry.” He paused. “Do we?”

Martin shook his head. “Let’s keep moving. This valley is safe. It’s the rest of Aeterna we need to save now.”
***********
Ah. My poor characters. I keep putting them in situations they don’t want to be in. I know this is a short post, but it’s best to end here. The next adventure is about to start. And I meant to write the good bye between Sona and Benton after the battle, but camp has me really busy. I’ll write it later…. When I have time…. After camp. But at least we have the main plot going, right?

Next week, a new adventure! Enjoy the journey!